


Climbing the Slope

by Kharons_End



Category: Original Work
Genre: Budding Romance, Confessions, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, high school/post high school, mild struggling with sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27861729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kharons_End/pseuds/Kharons_End
Summary: Case likens falling in love with his best friend to climbing a mountain.
Relationships: OC/OC
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: It's Snowing Somewhere Else: An Undertale Themed Secret Santa 2020!





	Climbing the Slope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yorit1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yorit1/gifts).



> I did a stocking stuffer for Yorit1's prompt: High school best friends who fall in love and confess to each other!

Case didn’t think he’d fall in love so early in his life, but he likened it to climbing up a slow-grade mountain: barely noticeable at first, but the more the trail continued, the less likely he was to stop.

It all started with his Bakemon cards that fell out of his locker on the first day of transferring schools. He had already been a nervous wreck— starting out school in a new place, knowing nobody, expecting his first lunch to be in the corner at the same table as that one already-established creepy kid who’s territory he was intruding upon. At least with classes he didn’t have to _act_ like anything; he could just zone out listening to the teachers and write down notes when he felt like it. Not always though, certainly not during classes where the teachers made him pair up with someone else. _Especially_ not during gym class.

He already dreaded gym, but he considered that the lesser of two evils because at least with gym, he had a reason to walk or run away from confrontation. When it came to lunch, it all boiled down to sitting awkwardly, keeping his head down as he munched on the peanut butter sandwich his mom made him.

But back to the cards. Just before the 11am class, he had dumped his Bakemon cards by accident from his locker. Here was the thing about those lockers— they were stacked. He had the top one. And the bottom one belonged to a beefy looking kid his age. Said beefy kid happened to be at his locker at the same time.

Those cards rained down on his head like the Niagara Falls of mistakes. Case felt like he watched the moment in slow motion, watching his holographic Akiangel shine in the fluorescent lights like a true angel of destruction. Or an angel of destruction of his social life, anyway.

The kids around them also saw the whole thing go down, and they snickered and hooted and whispered amongst themselves as Case’s ears burned. Yep, that was the end of him, he was pretty sure it was all over now.

The Beefy Kid who would end his life picked up one of the cards in his confusion and then looked up to him. His voice caught in his throat as he strangled out the worst apology he had ever uttered yet.

“Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to, my hand slipped.”

Complete with that stupid, puberty cracking voice of his. This was the end.

His newly appointed undertaker stood up after collecting a few of his precious cards and stared at him with the brown eyes of a bloodhound.

“You got holo Bakeneko? Cool.”

Case stared at him with a look of utter disbelief as he handed the cards back with...no apparent desire to pummel him. 

“What’s your name again?”

“Case,” he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat as he took the cards.

“Thomas. Do you make decks to play or do you just collect ‘em?”

He couldn’t believe this. “I play.”

“Awesome. We gotta battle sometime.”

Thomas sweeped up the rest of his cards and handed them back to Case, and that was the end. Somehow he was alive, and somehow his Bakemon cards _actually_ made him a friend. Friendly acquaintance. Maybe just an acquaintance who wanted to wait for the perfect opportunity to beat him into the ground with both his cards _and_ his fists, he couldn’t tell.

But then Thomas tracked him down during lunch and invited him to sit with him and his friends.

And later in gym class, when their classes paired up, Thomas offered to put him on the same dodgeball team, which, admittedly, was hella nice.

The two of them became fast friends throughout that year, and it was clear that they were attached to the hip during the rest of their middle school career. The easy part of the metaphorical climb of relationships. When they reached high-school is when the trail up became _steep_.

Thomas was by no means another dorky kid like him; he had a small crowd of friends from his baseball team, his share of confessions and dates invitations from girls— and a few guys— during their middle and high school career, and a sweet car from his parents. 

Compared to Case's 10 year old car he saved up from hauling boxes during his summer job and his meager pool of friends, some of who overlapped with Thomas and others who didn’t, kept him solidly in the “just an average guy” category. And he was pretty okay with that. And so was Thomas, who always managed to find the time to hang out with him at least twice a week. Sometimes more. Occasionally he’d crash over at Case’s place, and the two of them would spend the night playing video games and do homework and spin donuts in the grocery store parking lot after dark. 

They were good friends. Really good friends. Best friends, even.

Only…

Somewhere along the way Case discovered that his best friend just looked...better than all the other guys at school? Doing years of baseball and wanting to be _good_ at it made Thomas more lean than your average highschooler. And he already had some handsome features given to him by pure genetics. Case would often hear the whispers of his classmates pointing out Thomas’ “deep” eyes, and his defined jaw, and, yeah, _wasn’t that obvious already?_

But the talk and whispers kind of sickened him. All that macho bullshit about getting laid never sat well with Case, and they didn’t know how... _good_ Thomas was. As a person. The dude was the most legitimately kind person he’s ever known. He’d be the kind of guy who’d help old ladies across the street. He’d take on volunteer work and _not_ complain about it. And he’d drop anything for Case if he needed help, like that one time his car broke down on the highway in the middle of the night, and his parents couldn’t pick him up.

When it came to Thomas needing something, Case would abandon whatever he was doing and just _go to help._ Like when his parents fought, or when he got locked out of his house by accident, or when his dog died. He _wanted_ to be there for Thomas.

And he had an inkling that he knew _why_ those occasional sleepovers have been getting a bit more heavy with this strange tension, and why that spark of jealousy hit whenever that freaking sophomore chick came to hit on Thomas. He was honestly scared about it. Enough jokes and snide comments were being made about them shacking up with each other, and high school wasn’t known for being the most accepting place for his— for _people_ with that kind of taste. And there were his parents, though Case was relatively sure they wouldn’t care; on more than one occasion they teased about Thomas being their other son. But Thomas’ parents were a whole other ball game.

And there was, of course, Thomas, who had no clue. Case intended to keep it that way.

Except Thomas _didn_ ’ _t_ attempt to keep it that way at all, judging by his hand wrapping around Case’s as they sat on the trunk of his car, staring at the star-dotted horizon above the town. They had just left the graduation party and Thomas had been drinking enough to warrant a designated driver. Enter his best buddy Case, of course. They pulled over at the lookout so Thomas wouldn’t throw up in his car.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” Thomas started, his voice wavering on the verge of drunken tears.

“Haa, okay buddy, you’re not gonna lose me.” Case replied, catching feelings through the contact. He was drunk. This didn’t count. “I’m right here.”

“You don’t— don’t get it. I’m fucking...I’m sorry. I tried to be— to be normal but I just can’t, an’ you’re gonna hate me.”

A surge of longing hit him and he swallowed thickly, squeezing his best friend’s hand.

“I’m not gonna hate you, man. I don’t have it in me to hate you.”

Thomas shifted his hold, pulling Case into a hug— one that enveloped him entirely, with Thomas’ chin hovering over the crook of his neck and his short curls tickling his nose. The smell of his shampoo cut through even the heavy scent of booze, and the action made Case’s head lighten and his chest heavy. He could feel Thomas’ erratic heartbeat thumping through the cotton of his shirt.

He allowed himself to wrap his arms around him in a loose hug before pulling him off.

“You’re plastered,” he reminded the both of them. “Come on, I gotta get you home.”

Thomas looked at him with glassy, hazy eyes before pushing himself back onto his feet and sniffing.

“You don’ get it,” he urged.

Oh no, on the contrary.

“I think I do.” Case countered.

“So?”

“Tell me when you’re sober, then we’ll talk.”

He could _see_ the conflict going on inside his friend’s head, and before he could protest further, Case nudged him back into the car.

The ride back home was quiet, even when Case lugged Thomas into his empty home and into his room.

__________

The next day was graduation. The bleachers were full of giddy and emotional family members, the sun shone through the speckled clouds among the blue sky. Case did his salutatorian duties to introduce the speaker and valedictorian, then sat back down to scan the crowd of classmates once more.

Thomas sat in the next to last row, peeking out at him from underneath his graduation hat. It was the first contact they had since last night.

Case tuned out the valedictorian’s speech; something she prepared several times over in the hallway and at the party, and he didn’t care to listen to it _again_. No offense to Shawna, but other things were on his mind.

Maybe Thomas _did_ remember, and it was the alcohol talking.

And that kinda...really sucked.

They both avoided each other’s gaze for the rest of the ceremony.

After the caps were thrown and the crowd was allowed to hoot and holler for their freedom into “the real world”, Case climbed down from the stage to celebrate with his friends. Yearbooks and caps were signed, hugs were given freely, jokes and promises about never seeing each other again were being thrown around, and his parents and little sister shed (or just his father) joyful tears and hugs of their own with him. His mother handed him a graduation card with fifty bucks in it and kissed his head before ushering him off to have fun with everyone else.

And shortly after that, Case’s mom tracked down and dragged Thomas to the little gathering to have the family congratulate him as well. Thomas thanked them all with a bashful, genuine smile as they left the two of them alone.

Or alone in a crowd of their peers, anyway.

“Hey,” Thomas started. “Congratulations.”

Case could have cut the awkward tension between them with a knife.

“Thanks, you too,” he croaked. There was a small pause, neither of them quite sure what to say, until,

“You wanna go somewhere else?” Thomas asked, “It’s too loud here.”

“Yeah.”

So they did. Still in their graduation robes, Thomas started leading them past the bleachers, across the parking lot where a majority of the dispersing crowd were wandering to, both of them waving and saying their last goodbyes to a few straggling classmates as they passed. They made it to the soccer field by the time anything was said between them.

“About last night,” Thomas started, and Case’s heart slammed against his chest. Here it was. This was the end.

“What about it?”

Thomas looked away, though there wasn’t much else he could look with him standing in front.

“Do you remember what I said?”

“Yeah, dude. I didn’t drink as much as you did.”

Ouch, that came out harsher than he meant to, and it showed by the way Thomas flinched by a microfracture.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“About what?”

Thomas looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was standing. He didn’t say anything, but Case knew that look of irritation when he saw it. 

And a little bit of hurt, too. Case felt like shit immediately.

“Look, I…” he started carding his hair as Thomas stared at him. “I meant it when I said I can’t hate you. Whatever you feel is okay, man. You just gotta tell me what it is. You gotta be honest with me.”

A loaded, overbearing pause, where Case’s heart felt like seizing from the anticipation...

“I think I love you.”

Case’s mind went blank.

“Okay.”

Smart, Case. Real intelligent answer there.

Thomas shifted his weight and peered at him with pure trepidation, an emotion Thomas rarely, if _ever_ , showed. His cool, confident, chill best friend Thomas— who just admitted he loved him.

Oh _shit_ , he told him he _loved him_.

“Cool, I do too.”

Thomas’ eyes narrowed as he took a half step forward. “I don’t think you get it— “

“ — No man, I do,” Case blurted as he threw his hands up. “I love you too.”

“...I’m not kidding around. I’m serious.”

“So am I. I love you,” he replied lightly. This was not at all how he imagined this would go, but he’d be lying if he didn’t enjoy the lightheaded, airy feeling he was getting from this. It felt like several elephants were lifted from his chest all at once.

Or maybe it was more like he was looking down a cliff— that dangerous, lightheaded feeling, knowing how it could all go wrong so easily, and Thomas was his only lifeline.

And now Case couldn’t step away from the edge.

“I think I’ve been feeling this way about you for a long time,” he continued, chuckling, “If you ask me what it is about you, I couldn’t pinpoint it, but you make everything... _right_. I dunno, that came out stupid, but that’s how I feel about it.”

It was Thomas’ turn to go blank, and Case was desperately trying to keep his composure, to keep from falling off that proverbial cliff. A beat passed.

Thomas replied with a genuine, bashful smile. “Corny as hell, but you took the words out of my mouth.”

They weren’t on that imaginary cliff anymore. It was replaced with an air balloon.

“Good. Awesome.”

“Yeah.”

They were in an air balloon that neither one of them knew how to control.

Case pushed his robes aside and shoved his hands into his pocket, grinning like the idiot he knew he was.

“Wanna go get some food? Mom just gave me fifty bucks.”

“I’ll drive,” Thomas replied, clapping his hand over Case’s shoulder. “You wanna stop by the game store? I gotta pick up my pre-order.”

“Hell yeah I do.”

Somehow Case got the feeling it would all be okay.


End file.
